


Things We Lost In The Fire

by RunawayDog



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5137658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayDog/pseuds/RunawayDog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another (short) Pyro background story and a guess at why don't they want to take off their mask, literally and not literally as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Lost In The Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Commander_Owl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commander_Owl/gifts).



> A while ago, Commanderowl made fanmixes for all of the 9 mercs and the conversation we had afterwards made me think about which songs would I use if I had to make a fanmix too. Of course the first one that came into my mind was 'Thing We Lost In The Fire' by Bastille and of course I had an idea... I wanted to write a fic that /has something to do/ with the song but I got carried away and this short ficlet happened... 
> 
> Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGR4U7W1dZU  
> Tumblr post: http://runa-writes.tumblr.com/post/100900881496/things-we-lost-in-the-fire  
> CommanderOwl's fanmixes: http://commanderowl.tumblr.com/tagged/fanmix  
> (Notes of original Tumblr post):  
> So this one is for the lovely Commanderowl.  
> Thank you for your kind words, they mean a lot to me.  
> I’m sorry about my poor writing skills.

“I’m the only one who knows that it wasn’t my fault. Or at least, the only one who is alive from those who know. I can’t remember much. I was seven when I lost everyone and everything in the fire. If I weren’t in the living room, it would have eaten me as well. I was playing with my toy trains. There was an explosion. Somebody called my name. Darkness. Headache. I was being carried out of the burning house. They told me that something huge hit me on the head. I was unconscious for a longer time after that. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised they thought the fire was my fault - I was the only one who made it out alive and when I was awake all I did was scream. I blamed the fire; it took away everyone and everything I loved and I hated it with all of my heart for that. They never told me that my family died but they didn’t have to. I saw it in the way they looked at me when they visited me in that white room I was locked into. When I stopped screaming I guess they thought I stopped hating the fire because I was taken into an orphange. Truth is, it was exactly the opposite. I never stopped hating the fire. I made a pledge: since the fire took away everything I had, one day I’ll take away everything anyone else has, using the same fire. But I was just a child and for years, it remained an empty promise. Then I had my first blackout and everything changed. Suddenly everyone knew about my past, rumors and twisted half-truths started to spread and I found myself in the bathroom, head in the toilet. They bullied me daily, setting my hair and clothes on fire and slamming my head into the wall until I fainted. I remember the smell of the smoke and long, sleepless nights full of tears. It was not long before I snapped. I don’t know when and how did it happen or whether it was from my physical or mental injuries; it just happened. But I can recall how it felt when I slipped out of reality for the first time. Even though my bullies were so scared when they heard me laughing they ran away and stopped teasing me completely, it was still too late. I got a glimpse at this new reality and I liked what I saw. Everything was so simple and happy there. I was alone and nobody could hurt me. You could say I became addicted as I wanted more and more of that sweet, weightless feeling.There was only one problem, it was feeding from the object of my hatred, the same fire-”

Somebody’s knocking on the door. We both turn our heads towards the sound. My companion opens his mouth to answer with a simple “come in” but I quickly grab his arm and the move makes him swallow the words, leaving a sharp C alone in the air, covered in his clear and sharp accent. He looks back at me and raises his eyebrows.

“Doc, ya in there?” comes the voice from outside.  
“Please.” I say. Medic is still staring at me, not sure what to do.  
“But he is your friend."  
"I know and I don’t want to lose him.” I answer. I can’t decide if I’m pointing at my face or my whole self.  
He is hesitating. I hope he understands me. He has to understand me.  
“Go away, I’m busy!”  
“Whatcha doin’ with Pyro?!” the voice sound impatient.  
“Are you sure?” Medic asks me quietly. I nod.  
“He-” my companion stops here, sending me a questioning look. I shrug. He clears his throat and tries again. “Your friend will be fine. It’s just a head injury. Now leave!”

Silence falls upon us. I’m looking at the door, trying to figure out what would I do if Scout opened it and I had to face him. Luckily I don’t have to do anything because he leaves soon, mumbling to himself. My muscles relax. I take a deep breath. I have a story to finish, after all.

“I set the building on fire, it was beautiful. They didn’t catch me. The next few years are unclear. I lived on the street. Somehow I kept myself alive. There was… fire. I remember burning myself and everything else around me. I lost my nose and the half of my index finger in a fight. I was seventeen when they found me and locked me into another white room. I think they tried to cure me. They didn’t succeed. Whenever I caught myself being in this reality, it was only to witness the horrible examinations they did on me. My roommate kept saying that they can’t fix me. I couldn’t decide whether to believe him or not. He pissed himself every night to get the nurses’ attention. Somehow I managed to escape. I’m not sure how, maybe I bit a few of them. Again, I had nothing, except for a rusty zippo but by then I was used to that. My escape was a very serious act. They considered me as a dangerous person and wanted to find me inmediately, but I was smarter than them. They covered the buildings with my face but I made a mask. They sent people after me but I tied them, set them on fire, put a mirror in front of them and forced them to watch as they lost themselves. In the end, they locked me into my warehouse. That’s where TF Industries first found me and made me an offer. I was lucky - just as much as I am now - that I could keep a clear head when I signed the contact. So that’s it. That’s how I ended up here. I know you asked how do I feel but that is a question I cannot answer. The only one I could answer was the one you didn’t ask, only thought. I’m glad I could even finish it. The other reality is going to take me away soon, I can feel it.”  
“If that is the case,” he starts “why don’t you ask your question while you still can?”  
I let out an unhappy chuckle.  
“No point in asking a question I already know the answer to. Do you really believe you could make it go away?”  
“I don’t think so. But I’d like to try.”  
“You know what? If there’ll be a next time, remind me then. Too late for now anyway. It’s coming for me… Could you give me back my mask, please?”


End file.
